


'Till skies are blue again

by Kt_fairy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Disneyland, Domestic Avengers, Epic Friendship, Gen, Other, PTSD, Recovery, all the dorks, could be shippy if you squint, stucky feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-24 22:09:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1618748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kt_fairy/pseuds/Kt_fairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers are a damaged, dangerous, circus troop of a family, so what's one more genetically enhanced brain washed mass murderer with metal body parts?<br/>**EDIT** Now has pt.2 <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6168229"> 'Till the sun comes shining through again</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	'Till skies are blue again

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by long emotional Whatsapp messages with my friend at 2am and a desperate need to see someone be kind to Bucky. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> tw: seizures, trauma, PTSD, 
> 
> These boy's/girls/opperating systems belong to Marvel and their actors, all I own are the words.

“You had an alien in your head.”  

Clint had not been snuck up on in a long time, a very long time. He was so unused to it he had to take a second, long enough for a bullet to hit between his eyes or a knife to sink into his chest, to realise what had happened.

 Barnes was stood by one of the weight benches looking like something from a horror movie. Skin grey from all the crap Hydra pumped into him, head covered in faint fuzz from where his matted lice ridden hair had been shaved off, features sunken and eyes overly bright. His shoulders were dropped but his hands were clenched at his sides ready for a fight, all contained intent and violence.

 Clint had seen a lot of killers in his time, taken down a lot of them, saved some, but this guy… he had seen Cap's medical report after he set half the national budget on fire and crashed it into the Patomac, even with his super dooper healing Barnes had fucked Steve up enough to put him in intensive care.

Barnes was dangerous and Clint was a survivor. He took half a step forward on the practice mat to show he was not scared of the threat, planted his feet just incase he had to fight, and met blank eyes.

 “Yeah.” Silence. “Not as long as some, messed one guy up pretty bad.”

“Selvig, Swedish, Astrophysics.” Barnes reeled off. “Brain functions won’t slow down after being sped up twenty percent by alien technology. Is classed as having several mental illnesses.”

 “Did Nat get you our files?” Clint hoped she had because the only other way he would know all this would be…

 “No.” _Well shit._  “You had an alien in your head and now you’re you.”

“I'm not the one you…” Clint was not a councillor, he did not do words, but a guy who had been pumped full of chemicals and fried sporadically for seventy years had asked him for help, kind of, so he had to suck it up like a big boy and do words. “Honestly, Natasha punched me really hard in the head twice and then they tied me down for half a day while I descrambled.”

“I don’t think that’ll work for me…”

“But it _worked_ , I came back from having a lunatic in my head. I had an alien, demi-god, super powered, fucking…tyrant twisting me into something else. The amount of crap they did to you…” Clint twisted his bow in his hands, “…I was there when Steve brought you in and it was only him and me that thought you would even get to this stage. I had myself for reference; Steve had that dam faith in people that brings us up from being freaks and murderers.”

“Steve will get me through?”

“No!” The violence he put into that word made Barnes freeze, bracing for a blow, and it made Clint sick to the stomach. “No, _you_ will get you through, Sergeant Barnes. Don’t even let your friends get a pass to fiddle with your brain, if you do then what comes out the other side won’t ever be you.”

“Aren’t you fiddling by telling me that?” Barnes asked slowly, feeling his way, unsure if he could ask.

Clint shrugged, “That’s up to you.”

“Do I ... am I alone?”

“We’ll cushion blows, hold you down when you need it, listen when you need it, fight when you need us to.” Clint was only a little surprised by what he said; as a student of Nicky Fury he was never quick to make ‘friends’, but Barnes…it was not the way Steve looked at him, Clint had learnt off ‘Tasha that sentiment was dangerous, it was the flashes of the man who once was that made him say it. “You’re part of the team now if you like it or not, got your self some friends.”

“Friends.” Bucky repeated in that automatic way children did, frowned, then said it again.

Clint had been packing up to go, knowing that Barnes would only think to leave when he did, but paused as he was about to but his bow in it’s case. “Hey, fancy a spar? Could do with some hand to hand against someone new?”

“Not allowed.”

“Why not?”

“Dangerous.”

Clint laughed, “So am I. Bruce wrecked Harlem. Hell, you seen Pepper in a Board Room she rips nuts off left right and…she doesn’t really, it’s an expression!”

“I could kill you.” Not a worry, a clearly stated fact and Clint took it as a good sign that he was aware of how good he was.

“My job is fighting people that could kill me.”

Barnes’ face twitched and Clint thought another seizure was coming, but the other man just slowly peeled off his jumper and toed off his shoes.

 Clint got his ass kicked. He had shattered ribs, sore purple bruises all over, ears ringing for an hour after, and a sprained knee, while Barnes only sported an ugly yellow bruise from the one kick Clint had managed to land.

  Everyone called Clint an idiot, he probably was, but that had been _awesome_. 

                                                                                                

                                                                                                      ----------------------------------

 

It was never going to be easy. From the moment Steve heard that voice, preserved only in his unreliable mind or speaking slowly and clearly for the poor quality news reels, since… well he knew it was not going to be easy.

    He was not as naïve as some would have him, he did not think a warm bed and a catch up over a milkshake would make everything okay, he was just too spent to correct them. What had it mattered anyway if Bucky was not there? The only person who had really known him, had sat by him when he nearly died from pneumonia yet again and could persuade him, the most stubborn punk kid in Brooklyn, to get on the Cyclone, was dead. Sam had understood that he was really just going through the motions of living having been robbed of his choice to die by his own body. Steve did not know how he would have survived these months without his honest kindness and wisdom.

Today was one of the increasingly easy days.

  A day where the world was not in danger, a day where the sky between the New York skyscrapers was cloudless and clear, a day when people gathered on their rooftops or on the fire escapes and in central park in their masses. Day’s near the end of summer that were hot and lazy, day’s that did not have pollen in the air that used to bring on asthma attacks, day’s filled with Ice cream and cool lemonade.

   They had gone to the Freeway to get supplies for a barbecue Clint had decided they needed to have (“You bunch of city brats don’t know what you’re missing”) and Steve had left his ‘parent’ hat at the tower door, the day was too perfect to spend running after the troublemakers and neurotics that were now his social life.

  All fridges and pantries in Avengers Tower were filled up ‘by JARVIS’ so grocery shopping had become a rare event. Tony thought he had been in a grocery store once in Vegas but it might have been the MGM Grand, and Thor, well they did not have supermarkets in space and the Asgardian’s excitement at the prospect of the new experience had rubbed off on Tony ‘I don’t buy things under a thousand dollars’ Stark long enough to get him out of the tower.

 Said billionaire was sat in the end of a shopping cart decked out in his own Iron Man merchandise which, surprisingly, made him almost unrecognisable to the public.  Clint had the job of pushing the Stark cart and half listened to Tony’s directions which were thrown out sporadically as he was already tinkering with the BBQ they had picked up for the occasion.

  Steve was happily pushing the food cart Natasha and Thor were doing their best to fill it with junk now they had enough supplies for a weeks worth of barbecues. “How many of these Pop Tarts might be purchased?” Thor seemed to ask the whole store as he stood before the brightly coloured shelves, giant hands on his hips.

 “Many as you want, Mighty Munchies, ‘sall on me.” Tony encouraged, hooting with joy when Thor filled his arms with two shelves worth and carefully deposited them in the cart.

 Steve itched to caution moderation, but what about anyone he knew was moderated? He had seen Banner put away five boxes of Chinese food after only a short Hulk out and Natasha drink a bottle of Vodka like it was water. Sam was the only one amongst them to keep normal eating, drinking, and sitting patterns (Steve doubted he would ever get used to Clint perching on cabinets), his normality an oddity here so was accepted along with everyone else’s baggage and quirks. The man in question came up beside Steve quietly and gave him an amused smile, “On your left, dude”, nodding to the body that had come to stand a little too close to Steve’s shoulder.

  Even after all the months he had been back Steve still gave a little sigh of relief to see Bucky. He was looking a little overwhelmed by the store, a large box hugged to his chest, eyes scanning the shelves with a slightly vacant look as he tried to find something he recognised. He was sallow and underfed despite being bigger than Sam in the muscle department and the dark shadows around his eyes clinging on despite weeks without any nightmares, but he was here, had come along without asking for permission or hesitation. Every improvement was like Steve's first breath in Asthma clear lungs all over again.

  He had seen the looks thrown Sam and Bucky’s way as they hopped out the SUV half a block down so Bucky could stretch his legs. The looks screamed ‘drug addict’ (from a lab report Bruce had patiently explained to Steve it seemed Bucky’s system was flooded with stimulants and beta blockers, Valium, anti-rejection drugs, statins to stop strokes, traces of speed, pain killers and some thing’s Bruce did not explain) ‘dangerous’ (even in a state of disrepair his metal arm had ripped apart one of Tony’s suits) ‘unhinged’ (weren't they all). The looks that hurt the most were the ones that pitied the poor broken man out with his social worker because of how close those people were to the truth, because the rock in the storms of Steve's life should never be in a position to be pitied.

  Bucky gave a forlorn look at the blanket of pop tarts in the cart, fresh memories of his body violently rejecting the pieces of one Thor had given to him, and looked up at Steve with his crooked grin that could still charm even Natasha. “I remembered when we watched Mrs.Orlandi’s kids and we took them up on the roof with the tin bath so they could mess about and I ended up in it while they sat under the…the…the water…the water tower with you and you read to them and you drew.” He spoke in one great rush like he always did when he remembered something, half worried he was making it up and half hopeful that if he spoke it aloud it would never leave him again.

  “Yeah, I still got sunburn.”

Bucky loosened his grip on the box enough to show Steve what it was. On the front was a pristine garden showing children having a whale of a time in a bright blue plastic ‘paddling pool’ the box said.  “I…I wanted…wanted this, because when I saw it I remembered.”

 “Yeah sure, Buck…” Steve started but Tony yelled over him.

“Not like I don’t have, like, two pools in the tower…”

“Four, and a hot tub.” Natasha corrected.

“Four pools and a hot tub. Fully heated to the users exact body temperature, clean water after every use, you can even watch films in them…” Bucky looked like he did not know if he should argue, ignore or obey and Tony got that fond look he only ever got when Bucky floundered, “…hell, what’s one more. Throw it in, won’t break the bank. We can fill it with ice and beer, or make moonshine in it- you look like the kinda guy who knew a guy that made bath-tub gin- or put mud in it and get a wrestling competition going.”

“I much enjoy wrestling, although I have never tested myself in mud. I would like to be a part of this competition.” Thor declared.

 “I’ll take you up on the challenge, big guy.” Natasha said, holding her hand out to Thor who shook it enthusiastically. Sam let out a quiet and disbelieving “dam” while Tony looked fit to explode with glee.

“I am filming that, JARVIS we’re filming it! I’m so glad I thought of having a barbecue.”

Clint gave the cart a hard shove, “Hey!”

 “You guys not takin’ bets yet? You livin’ in New York and you’re not takin’ bets on a fight, what’s wrong with the world?” Bucky said in that rapid Brooklyn drawl he sometimes got when he remembered his humour, barking out a laugh that was still a little brittle about the edges when Sam and Clint scrambled for their wallets.

                                                                                                         --------------------------

  There were days when it was not so easy.

 Not as hard as it was at the beginning when they were all shouting at once about murderers and assassins and blood on peoples hands and the world not being all peaches and cream and that Steve was being a ‘fucking idiot’ and how could they trust someone who had Hydra in their head for seventy years, Sam bringing in the shell that was once Sergeant James Barnes to quietly sit him on one of Tony’s work benches to await his fate.

  Day’s on end when Bucky would have a migraine so bad he could barely breathe without it causing more agony, body burning through the low dosage painkillers (anything higher would set back his rehabilitation) in under an hour. These were ‘better’ than the migraines that would end in violent seizures which made Steve nearly useless in panic, thankful all he needed to do was cushion Bucky’s head and comfort him. Even Tony could do that and he had a couple of times, face unusually closed off as he held Bucky’s shoulders or patted his hair.

  Day’s when Bruce had to leave the tower because Bucky’s screaming was causing his blood pressure to shoot up. It was not really screaming, it was a sound from deep in his ribcage that got caught in his throat until it bled and he could barely breathe, clinging to Steve until whatever was tormenting him faded away.

  Day’s when something in him would shut down and nothing could be done to bring him out. Everyone had to live their lives around him until he blinked out of it and went and stood in the shower until Steve pulled him out.

Day’s when Bucky moped because the amount of pills he had to take to keep his brain from breaking down had gone up and made him face how broken he still was.

 A day when Bucky had stared at Tony for half and hour and then attacked him. Tony had gotten in his suit to protect himself but Bucky had ripped him out of it and it took Thor’s strength to hold him until Bruce got enough drugs in him to put him out. Instead of being furious when he was recovered from the wreckage of R&D, Tony threw himself at the spec’s he had of Bucky’s arm trying to work out where that strength had come from.

The afternoon Bucky had sat opening and closing his fist while watching Cartoon Network and when Jane, trying to plot gamma surges, had asked him to stop because it had begun to whirr he had reached under the couch to rip one of the metal legs off to throw it at her. Steve had not been there but Bruce told him how Bucky, without taking his eyes off Adventure Time, calmly said the arm had started to do stuff without him moving it. Despite that being utterly terrifying as the dam thing was connected to his spinal cord it was not all bad, Tony finally got to get his itching fingers on it to upgrade and Tony with itchy fingers was twenty times more annoying than Tony without.

  “Please say you didn’t put lasers in it.” Clint had declared from somewhere at the back of the half rebuilt R&D when the sparking and popping of the spot welder finally stopped and Bucky had loosened his tight hold on Steve’s hand.

“I know better than that! Sorry C3PO, I’ll let you in my home and I’ll pay for your meds but lasers…” Tony had fiddled with something that made a loud crack, “…that was supposed to happen.  Yeah, no lasers, and the grip is restricted for now down to fifty percent so no more billion dollar tech gets ripped to bits. Scanners and short range rockets I’ll give you if…” he had held out his fist as silence hung in the room. Bucky’s gaze had moved from the small pile of Hydra mechanics removed from his arm to Stark's hand slowly, “…if you give me a fist bump.”

“Tony, just get on with it and stop messing around.” Steve had been made antsy by how beautifully the arm was made when they were so careless with Bucky's mind.

“Are you an engineer as well as a heavily armed underwear model, Jesse James?” Tony had snapped as Bucky’s modified arm came up, formed a fist, and gently nudged Tony’s before falling onto his lap. “Because if you were you would see that was a test of pressure control, motor skills, hydraulics, electronics… Now, break this wrench.”

 Buck had blinked at the bar of metal before dutifully beginning to bend it. “Don’t worry Tin Man,” there had been that sparkle in his eyes that used to charm the most hardened French barmaid into giving their motley crew of soldiers a free bottle of wine, “we’ll get you a heart.” He had handed over a wonky twisted metal heart shape and the tense atmosphere that had been over the tower for months lifted.

Tony had the wrench framed and put over the bar.

 It got better after that. Instead of being woken up by Bucky pacing infront of the windows looking out at the city like a caged animal, or to Bucky’s thighs squeezing his chest and blank blue eyes looking down at him, or shrieks dispersed with Russian, Chinese, Urdu, German, or to Jarvis’ seizure warning ; he woke up to Bucky sat cross legged on the end of Steve’s bed eating Lucky Charms or getting toast crumbs all over the sheets. To Bucky making pancakes on autopilot in the kitchenette opposite Steve’s bedroom door, chattering away about things so rapidly Steve could barely follow but did not mind because Bucky was happy and talking and making pancakes. Sometimes he woke up to no Bucky at all, finding him in the gym with Natasha, or reading emails for Pepper when she was swamped, or, more than once, acting like he’d been poisoned after trying one of the health drinks Bruce tried to make him gulp down to help his recovering system.

                                                                                             -------------------------------------------

 

  “So, this tastes like anti-freeze.” Banner announced around a mouthful of hotdog causing Stark to whip a out chemical tester and started scanning the grill. This was their third barbecue in as many days so they were already poisoned if there was something wrong with it. Bucky looked at his burger and wondered if anti-freeze would have any effect at all on his lab rat body.

Romanov rolled her eyes. “It’s just a bit of lighter fluid fumes it won’t kill you- you big baby.”

“Excuse us for not being breast fed on bleach in Siberia as children.” Stark ignored Romanov and Potts sharing a look and Bucky felt himself smiling- he liked those two ladies.

The Asgardian next to him looked at his pile of burgers and ‘dogs, chewing thoughtfully before leaning closer to Bucky, “Does the meat taste unusual to you, Buchanan Barnes?”

“Tastes alright to me, but my taste buds are shot so…”

Tony let out a dramatic sigh, picking up one of the vegan burgers to shove in his mouth as he flopped down onto the chair next to Bucky’s bean bag. “You okay? Having a good time, can I get you a beer?”

“The doctor said…”

“Doctors used to say bleeding made you better. You wanna beer you have a beer.” He shifted forward in his seat. “I can be a bit of a dick at times, I am _actually_ self aware, but I wouldn’t give you something that made you sick. If you trust me, take a beer, if not I won’t hold it against you.”

The Commander had told him he could trust him, but the seventy year old footage of a smiling, handsome young man Bucky saw at the museum that had once been this wreck of a human had proved that to be a crock of shit. Steve assumed trust came with their shared history, Bucky could never tell him it was desperate fear and confusion that had make him stick around up until recently. No-one had asked him to trust them before.

 “Sure, I’ll have one.”

When the rich, slightly fizzy, sickly liquid hit his tongue he questioned just what kind of idiot he was, pulling a face as he ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth to try and get rid of the taste. “What the hell is this?!”

“Sam Adams.”

“Jesus, no. No, don’t like that. Don’t like that at all.”

“Huh, Shirley Temple on steroids over there like’s ‘em so…”

“ _Don’t call him that.”_ Bucky heard himself growl, the familiar need to protect and preserve flaring up in his chest, thankful for his modified arm that had no memory of shattering Steve’s cheek bone under it’s fist. Stark was looking at him with eyebrows raised, hand held out to take the beer from him.

“Fear not friend, this drink is not to all tastes. I myself prefer the summer Mead from Nifleheim and the Whiskey made by Jim Bean.” The Asgardian thumped him on the back, tipping his golden head back to drink a bottle down in one gulp. Bucky blinked at him, still getting over how _much_ there was of his guy.

  “Definitely not to my tastes. Ho boy, I’d let them electrocute that out of my brain with a smile on my face.” The chatter around him paused for a moment, a few seconds, long enough for Bucky to flick his eyes, snipers eyes, over them all – taking in the tense lines of a shoulder here, a fork held too tight there, a breath held.

Steve had looked up from his lap with quirked eyebrows, his plate was next to his feet so he must have been drawing, and their eyes met for a second. Bucky should not have said that, he did not know why no one else here had had their brain’s expertly fried so what was their deal? Steve shook his head and looked back down.

“Don’t scare the kid’s or they’ll never sleep tonight.”

Bucky rolled his eyes with a, “Sorry doll face”, as he took what he hoped was an obnoxious bite out of his burger.

                                                                               

                                                                                      --------------------------------------------------

 

 

There was an almighty crash from the floor above and Natasha was out of bed and running before the floor had stopped vibrating from the force of it. She really hoped it was not an explosion.

 “ _Miss. Romanov, I have been asked to_ …”

“Shut up Jarvis and get me to Steve’s floor.” She yelled in what was probably Russian as she barrelled into the lift.

“ _Yes, Miss. Romanov_.”

Steve’s floor was hushed as the elevator doors slid open, still as if it had been abandoned, but Natasha could sense there were people here as she tiptoed down the hallway, the gun she kept under her pillow ready to be used if needed. She cleared every room like she had been trained, finding nothing out of the ordinary until she got to the adjoining bedrooms where Steve and Bucky slept. A bad idea, having Steve between the Winter Soldier and the only exit, but Bucky needed someone close when the nightmares came and Steve was clinging to him like a guilty conscience.

The door creaked at her from where it had landed in the kitchen opposite and she had to pick her way through the rubble that was once part of the wall. That explained the crash.

  They were in the bathroom, Bucky hurling his guts up as Steve held back his hair. It would have been an amusing sight except it really was not.

“Sleepwalking, I think.” Steve said before Natasha could make her presence known. “I woke up because he was talking in Russian I think, walking right past me, up to my door and punched it off its hinges.”

She clicked the safety on and pocketed her gun, eyes landing on Bucky’s hand that had left bloody smudges on the floor. She got the medical kit from behind the door and knelt next to him, carefully putting his hand on her leg to check the ugly gash on the side, most likely from a jagged bit of door frame.

  The pressure of being watched made her look up into weary eyes, the same that looked out of her mirror every morning, and gave Bucky an encouraging smile. “Come here often?” She joked and Bucky gave a weak laugh, dropping his forehead onto his cool metal arm, Steve running a soothing hand through his hair.

Natasha got his hand clean, butterfly stitched the wound in the hope it would close soon with his enhanced healing, bandaged him up and watched as Steve got a bottle of water down his throat before he padded back to bed on shaky legs.

“Want me to see if JARVIS caught a recording of what he was saying?”

“Please.”

“Should we put in sleep walking protocol?”

“I…I don’t know.” Steve was staring down at Bucky who was lying right up against the wall, fast asleep once again. He was going to curl around Bucky once she was gone, she could see it in his eyes, but kept her words of caution to herself.

“You okay, Steve?”

He took in a deep breath, unaware he had blood on his shirt. “Yeah, I will be. Thank’s ‘Tash, sorry to get you out of bed.”

“No problem.”

She got JARVIS to pull up the audio file from Bucky’s room and listened to him repeat a mission spec over and over again before demanding to be let go, telling people to get back, telling them to leave him alone and let him go and then there was the crash of the door and the sound of Steve yelling Bucky’s name.

Natasha did not sleep again that night.

Bucky screamed the tower down with nightmares for the next few days, leaving everyone subdued and hollow eyed by their own demons.

 

                                                                    ---------------------------------------------------------------------

  Tony glanced over at Bucky, his eyes fixed on a poster showing three beaming, gamine models with tousled hair and sun kissed skin lounging on a beach in their bikinis. If this was Steve he would have had a field day, but there was something about Barnes (Tony would deny until his dying day it was his huge desperate blue eyes set in a face that showed everything it ever felt) that made his comments run dry. Well, most of them.

 “You want some swimwear?” Tony said as he came to stand at his shoulder, keeping still when Bucky flinched like he had been caught.

“I wasn’t…”

“They’re wearing Bikini’s, s’what women wear to the beach and swim around in. Not very practical, ones I’ve seen up close come off pretty easily…”

“I’m not a pervert.” Bucky had that glare on his face that spoke a thousand words and Tony laughed.

“Red blooded man, that’s what you are. Glad to see Hydra didn’t take it all…” everyone skirted around that whole topic like it was infected; Tony preferred a more head on approach, “… No, you see pal, ladies wear them in public, they can do stuff like that now as well as vote and earn money. You should see what guys get to wear, that’ll make or break you.”

Bucky looked back at the poster, frowned, shook his head, and let Tony lead him over to the fitting room. Pepper had chose the store and apparently had a plan for the Three Not-So-Wise Men, which meant it was going to be promptly ignored and she would need a lot of booze when they got home. Which Tony did not mind one bit, tipsy Pepper was sooo much fun.

 “You don’t have to wear anything you don’t like, ‘kay?”

Bucky looked down at him and snorted, “I’m not Steve.” Tony cracked up, slapping his metal shoulder as they entered the private fitting room, three long racks of clothes waiting and Tony was going to enjoy this _so much_. Clothes shopping involved too many things behind handed to people and not enough disinfectant, preferring online shopping where everything came in sealed bags. He had be wholly uninterested in operation, 'Bucky's New Clothes', until the magic words were uttered; 'Thor and Steve'.

Thor was always going to come, the guy was so up for anything it gave Tony a headache. Steve had taken a little more persuading. He had protested that he liked the clothes he wore and so Tony had to make him see the error of his ways by bugging him until he either gave in or smacked Tony in the face which would have been painful and terrible but also amazing leverage.

   Bucky (‘Dory’ as he was on Tony’s notes) was delivered into Pepper’s expert hands looking so desperately inundated with new sensations Tony almost very nearly felt what could have been a wave of fondness, or it was the awful coffee Annoying Intern One made that morning – probably that.

She was here too. When Tony demanded why she had said Dr.Foster had given her the afternoon off while Thor had happily declared that, “Jane Foster wished to work undisturbed.” There had been a pause as Darcy pretended to look like she was offended but the obvious glee at getting to using Thor and Captain America as dress up dolls won out, looking like a very smug kid at Christmas when Thor happily whipped off  his top to throw on a dress shirt with little care for who saw.

  “Hellooo muscle beach.” She muttered. Steve blushed and looked like he would rather not have arms right now, Thor was proud of himself the jackass, Bucky was either not listening or did not care and Pepper was looking at them with…oh no, no no no.

“Hey, Pep. Pep, hey, you can leave the assistants to this I saw some nice sparkly…emeralds(?) a few stores down you want ‘em? I’ll get you ‘em, I’ll get you the shop.”

“Tony, don’t be silly.”

“Puppies, ponies, a planet! You can buy planets now I’m sure I could get you a big one.”

“Oh Tony…” Tony’s heart felt like it was giving out more heat than any arc reactor as she smiled at him- shit, he loved her- and pecked him on the mouth, “…I only date genius superhero billionaire philanthropists, remember.”

"Well that narrowes it down."

 The free drinks and pastries were abused by two metabolisms that ran off the charts and one intern. Tony did not trust the glasses or plates, anyone could have held them, and brought his own food with him that he made Barnes eat as they could not risk any illnesses until they knew what exactly all that coming in and out of cryo' had done to him, not because he wanted Bucky to like him or anything. Howard Stark thought the sun shone out of Steve Roger’s ass but always said Sergeant Barnes was a brat; brave, loyal, sharp and very good with a rifle but still a brat. That made some part of Tony want to, well, to get him in his corner.

 “Lookin’ good Stevie.” Bucky said around a mouthful of sourdough pretzels that Tony had forlornly watch him destroy, those were his favourite, but nothing else mattered when he caught sight of Captain America in cropped corduroys with roll ups and a seam-pullingly tight GIRLS!GIRLS!GIRLS! t-shirt.

“Holy shit.”

Rodgers looked mortified, but it turned out that was because of the pants and not the shirt. Tony laughed even harder.

“You like them Buck? Here…” Steve stomped over to the rails so he could chuck a pair at him, “…have your own.”

Bucky whipped off the cargo shorts Pepper had been pondering, revealing his long, strong legs. Tony did not let his eyes hover over the faint scars on his pale thighs, wounds carefully stitched up by the people that had pulled apart his brain, concentrating on the Hawkeye boxers he was wearing that Tony swore were from the pack of Avengers underwear he had given Steve last Christmas. Bucky had to wiggle into the pants, they were a size too small, but he got them on and jutted his chin out with a hint of a smile on his face as he stared down Steve.

  He looked as ridiculous as everyone did in those pants, delicate ankles exposed to the world and everyone burst out laughing. “Come on then jerk, let’s see who can wear them the longest before they flake out. I ain't embarrassed, I have a dam metal arm. Come on Steve, get 'em, I can wear ‘em all day. Let’s do this, Shoulders, let’s go.” Tony noted the time of the longest speech he had heard from Bucky, chuckling as Steve backed out straight away.

Tony really hoped he had a mind for science because he _liked_ this guy.

  Unlike Steve who was the embodiment of ‘I wear your grandad’s clothes I look incredible’, Bucky had something of a fashion sense and it was a little worrying to see how well he and Pepper had bonded. They were already laughing over in-jokes! Tony comforted himself with some champagne and the knowledge that even if he was not ripped and dangerous and utterly charming he had a metal everything back home while Bucky only had a metal arm so…

“I want some boots? And something not boots. I need shoes.” The assistant fell over himself to bring in piles of shoes and Darcy even stopped on her mission to get Thor in the most ridiculously tight clothes ever to watch.

  It was kinda cute watching the assistant, a ginger kid who looked like he was waiting for his modelling career to start, flittering around Bucky like he was the one with the bank balance that only dealt in billions. Steve and Thor, pure muscle and cheekbones, had hardly got an appraising look but Bucky with his hair pushed haphazardly out of his haunted endless blue eyes, with his easy smile and hesitant laugh and the constant flicker of danger about him was flavour of the month.

  Steve kept on glancing over to make sure enough room was being left for Jesus and Tony only held in his laughter when Pepper’s sharp elbow ground into his side.

 “May I say, sir, that shirt is nice, it’s lovely and fits beautifully but might I suggest a lighter colour…” Bucky looked down at the black dress shirt like he had forgot it was there, “…black is very classy but I think you would look better in a blue or a grey.”

“Alright…” Bucky obediently changed into a blue shirt that had been rejected from Thor’s rail for simply not being big enough. Steve looked like he was about to leap across the room and bat the guys hands away as he straighten the shirt and brushed it smooth over Bucky’s shoulders. This was _SO_ much fun.

 “Hey Macklemore, you suit young man’s clothes.” Tony called honestly, making Steve pull his glare away from the assistant who was now Tony’s favourite person.

 “Macklemore? Is he the bard in the fur coat who sung about having a huge…”

“Yes, yes he was Thor.” Pepper cut him off as Steve just shook his head and admitted he did quite like the Hilfiger jumpers and the Converse, sighing when Tony gave Pepper her victory hi-five.

“Thor had a shirt with space on it.” Bucky was saying to the assistant. “I like that, can I have one?”

“Of course you can! You can have _anything_ you like.”

Darcy made some kind of squeak at the assistants _very_ loaded tone. Steve’s face was not funny any more, he looked like a very sad Labrador, and Tony supposed he should step in.

“Hey, put these on Heidi Klum.” Tony shoved skinny jeans off someone else’s rack at Bucky who muttered, “What the fuck is Heidi Klum?”

“Bucky!There are ladies here!” Steve hissed, finally stopping his dithering to come over to Bucky.

“She’s a model with legs up to her eyes.” Tony explained. “What’s your badge say…Dom, I need you to ring up some stuff for the Star Spangled Mamma Bear and Konan the Destroyer, we’ll be along in a bit with some more.”

“Bucky,” Pepper said gently when the assistants had left with the piles of ‘yes’ clothes, “do you understand what just happened?”

“Sure, he was angling for a date.” The only person who did not look surprised by that statement was Thor.

“And you… I don’t want to pry, but you didn’t mind?”

Bucky shrugged, “We had ‘em, fella who liked fellas and dames who liked dames, back in the thirties. Me and Steve lived a block away from all their joints, see ‘em walkin’ down the street, worked with a guy at the docks who liked that, fellas I mean. ‘Sides, girls could be plenty mean if they didn’t want to know about you and I don’t wanna be mean to nobody unless they’re mean first.”

  Was too much to ask for the longest thing Bucky had said in public to be about having a pants-off? Why did he have to get all existential all of a sudden!

“You’re going too deep for a shopping trip Barnes, get in those jeans.”

“Tony,” Steve had been riled and was swinging rapidly into panicky overprotective mode , “there was a group agreement for no…”

“No _you_ agreed no skinny jeans for a reason _I_ don’t give a shit about. I think he’s got the legs to pull off a publicity coup in them, don’t you think so Pep?”

She shrugged, “If Bucky feels comfortable...”

“I hope Bucky feel’s comfortable.” Darcy said, grinning at Pepper in a way Tony was suspicious of.

 Bucky disappeared behind the curtain into his booth and Steve was hissing, “Why are you here Tony?”

“My money _is_ buying all this, when was your last SHEILD pay check?”

“Bucky Barnes does indeed have fine, strong legs.” 

Everyone looked at Thor for a moment before the usual bickering started up again, with added asides from Darcy who was having way too much fun at Tony’s expense. He vaguely heard Pepper muttering about escaping to the Hamptons with the girls to get away from these idiots as she downed the last of the free champagne.

 

                                                                                                                    ----------------------------

  “People used to write articles about if we were doin’it?”

Bruce had actually had stranger phrases start off his Monday morning, what was surprising was that most were before he became Science Bro’s with Tony.

  Steve’s spoonful of oatmeal had been abandoned in mid air and he leant right over to look at what Bucky was reading, eyebrows travelling to his perfect hairline.

“It was the eighties.” Bruce explained, “People needed a gay ic… it was a social revolution and people needed someone to hold themselves up to from their own century. Ancient Greeks and dead English poets did not really cut it for everyone.”

“They made us into what they needed.” From anyone else it would be acceptance, but from Barnes it was liable to be the tick of a bomb.

“If it helped some people, well… then I don’t mind.” Steve said diplomatically, not moving his eyes from the six page spread in the New Yorker about ‘The History of Academia around Captain America: What can we learn about Historiography now he is back amongst us?’

“You can help people by not fighting?” Bruce had hoped that was one of the dry jokes Barnes would sometimes throw you, but it was an idle hope that wanted a quiet morning.

“Of course, Tony and I work on sustainable energy and that, surprisingly, doesn’t end in violence.” Steve glanced up to shoot Bruce an amused smile across the meeting/ breakfast table while Bucky smoothed his hands over the pages slowly.

“They make me out like I’m some kind of martyr. Selfless James Barnes who worked his ass off to keep sickly little Steve Rogers alive long enough to become the next super weapon to beat our enemies into submission. That good all American poor workin’ boy sent off to war. Wasn’t it swell of Saint Bucky to fall off that train so Captain America could find his righteous rage and go blow up Hydra, wouldn’t have Cap now if his best friend hadn’t got himself killed!”

“Bucky…” Steve said so gently Bruce would have looked away if not for the growl Barnes hissed out between his teeth. If he was going to have another violent episode Bruce was going to have to make a run for it, he could never live with himself if he Hulk Smashed Steve’s best friend.

“I am more than  _you_ , I am more than  _this_ , I am more than the  _war_ , I am more than…” He suddenly sat bolt upright in his chair, pages of the magazine ripping in his fists. “They don’t ever talk about how I was the one that had to slip into Nazi bases first to do recon’. How I slit guy’s throats and broke their necks just for getting too close – guards, ordinary fella’s, not Nazi’s, not Hydra. Don’t talk about the …” He took in a deep, ragged breath, “How I got dirty so consciences could remain clean. That I was collateral damage of America's heroics. Sacrifice two kids from Brooklyn so Uncle Sam could sleep at night.”

“Bucky…” There were tear’s in Steve’s voice and Bruce gently pressed the silent alarm under the table to alert Tony down in R&D that shit might be about to go down.

“It’s true, isn’t it, Captain  _Amerka? Pro kreyney mere, Russkiye chestny ob ikh gryaznuyu rabotu!_ ” Bucky spat the words, eyes blazing as Steve stood abruptly, wheelie chair crashing into the wall and making Bruce flinch.

 “Don’t you dare, James Barnes, don’t you… don’t you ever say you got dirty for me, I wouldn't ever  _let you_.” Barnes looked up at Steve and something passed between them that not even the most studious and insightful historian could ever dig up. “I told anyone who’d listen that you were the making of me, after you fell, because I had done that. You trying to save my ass again got you killed. I…I never went to war to kill people and until you came back that’s all I’ve wanted to do. I got plenty of blood on my hands now, everyone has…” A look of horror came over Steve’s blanching face and he made to grab the table for support. “I’ve got your blood on them. I let Hydra get you back, I let them use you how they wanted…It should have been me, you never deserved Brooklyn or _me_ or the war. I am so sorry Bucky, I ruined everything.”

Barnes silently went to get Steve’s chair and made him sit down, letting Steve grip his wrists until his shoulders relaxed and breathing evened out.

 Bruce was expecting to hear a rousing reply, reassuring Steve no wrong had been done, that everything was okay – comforting but not helping to dull the guilt- but, they were all learning, the unpredictable streak in Barnes was not reserved for explosions of violence.

“It’s okay Stevie, I forgive you.” He whispered, waiting for Steve to meet his eyes before he smiled gently. For someone complaining about being drawn as a saint he sure painted a picture of one now as he pressed a hand to the side of Steve’s head. “I forgive you, ya’ big lug.”

Steve’s face lightened, the pinched look in his eyes fading out for something more at peace. He went back to his oatmeal and Bucky picked up another magazine to read as if nothing had happened, Bruce pressing the silent alarm again to turn it off.

“So, Saint Bucky?” Steve grinned.

“If you can be Captain America, I can be Saint Bucky. Bleedin’ heart and everything.”

                                                                                ---------------------------------------------

                                                    

 The rangy, solitary figure of Bucky stood in the light being thrown out by the large plate glass windows like a Vermeer painting, a shiver to his shoulders that made Steve pick up his pace only to see it was the cold getting to him. It had been a long time since Steve had felt the cold. He shrugged off the unbuttoned plaid shirt he had on over a t-shirt (he was making an effort to look like the guys did now but it had been driving him mad) and draped it over slumped shoulders.

  Clint, Sam, Natasha and himself (Cap Squad as Tony called them), had just come back from a mission in Chad tracking down a war lord who had found something that was giving off more gamma ray's than the Hulk. After weeks of gathering intel and increasingly desperate searching they finally found the device before it was sold on or worked out. They had been on harder missions in more dangerous times which was lucky as Captain America found his mind wondering away from the task at hand. He knew he had no reason to worry, Bucky was improving every day and he did not need Steve hovering over him to make sure he was okay and, as Sam had kept reminding him, it was not as if he was on his own with strangers.

  Whenever he had checked his phone there were pictures of Bucky making pancakes, doing laundry, hanging out with Pepper, or being bench pressed by a beaming Thor. Steve caught on pretty quickly they were reassurances that everything was all right which meant Bucky was probably concerned Steve was going to get distracted worrying about him (which he was but that's besides the point). He would send back a few snaps of sunrises and them all wobbling on top of camels when there was a moment, ignoring Clint's teasing about Stark portable WiFi not being invented so, "you can keep up with your Super Soldier gossip ."

   Bucky, flesh and blood no pixels on a screen, looked up with a smile of thanks, eyes hidden in the dark, unlit cigarette balanced on his bottom lip. “Banner tells me this gasper here could kill a fella. If only Hydra had known.”

Steve did not like it when Bucky joked about stuff like this; Sam said it was a sign of acceptance, Banner said it was a sign of letting go, Tony said if you mocked something it would never get at you, Natasha’s eyes would harden then turn sympathetic. He usually played it off as a joke, trying to make Bucky relax, but tonight he could not.

“Aw heck, look at you getting all sad. I’m sorry Stevie.”  Bucky squeezed Steve’s arm, waiting for him to look at him. “I know it ain’t been easy for you, for all of you. It’s a swell bunch you got here, little nuts but I’m hardly one to talk…”

“You’re not mad, Buck. If anyone here is mad it’s Tony and he’s a genius.”

 “You always kept the best company.”  Bucky smirked and looked back out at the city bathed in the twilight, lights beginning to flicker on in the buildings below them.  “I used to sit out on the fire escape to smoke because you would start coughing if I did it in the apartment.”

“Yeah, I had asthma.”

“You had asthma.” Bucky repeated, childlike and Steve felt his wrecked heart shatter again. 

“If you wanna smoke I’m sure there is something here that will make a flame…”

“Nah, the… I...having it in my mouth. I remember the feeling.” He ran his thumb over his bottom lip like he always used to after finishing a smoke, shoulders rising as he glanced inside at the sound of Thor laughing.

“Bucky…”

“Thank you.”

Steve began to recoil then forced himself still. He did not want thanks, he knew full well what Bucky meant and he wanted to protest, refuse to accept it. To grip Bucky’s wrist like he used to with his bony little hands and thank him for all the extra shifts he used to work to make the rent, to pay for Steve’s doctor’s bills when he was really sick, thank him for always trying to get Steve a date, thank him for spending the last of his pay check on paper so Steve could draw, thank him for the body heat he’d share when there was four feet of snow outside, thank him for the things Steve could never let him do just so they could get by.

 “How could I live without trying?” _With every fibre of my body until there was nothing left of me because without you I would have faded away like I was doing after you died,_  he wanted to say but could not, not knowing it would make Bucky sad that Steve would happily waste away for him.

“Sap.”

“Bum.”

They stood in silence for a little while, listening to the wind picking up around them, Steve about to ask if Bucky wanted to go back in when suddenly music blared out around them. He knew he had jumped about four foot in the air with his heightened reactions; he also knew Tony would have seen and would bring it up with devastating effect at some point in the future. Bucky just blinked at the sudden noise and turned towards the glass sliding door that had Avengers streaming out of it.

 “Stark what…the floor is vibrating!” Steve yelled over the music. “Why is this a thing?”

“Great isn’t it!” Natasha yelled, glass in the air as she danced around with Pepper and Sam to the, actually, not totally awful music.

 “ _Weee’ve come to faar to give uuup who we arre.._.” Annoying Intern 1…wait no, Darcy. Her name is Darcy, sang along as she danced over to Steve and Bucky.

“Come on, it’s nice to let your hair down every once in a while. Look ,Thor’s even enjoying himself.”  Tony pointed over to the Asgardian who had one of his giant hands in Jane’s tiny one and was trying to move his bulk in time to the music with a beaming smile on his face. “Loosen up Capnetto. Get the world off those annoying broad shoulders for a night, have a dance, have a drink, _raise the bar and our cups to stars!”_

_“The present has no ribbon, the gift keeps on givin’…”_ Everyone sang as Sam, the traitor, tried to make Steve dance before Tony’s whistle pulled attention back to Bucky who was frozen on the spot with wide eyes on Darcy who was dancing around him.  She was moving in a way that was frankly, well, Steve was not as much of a prude as Tony made out but he certainly felt a little shocked by what she was doing.

“Get it girl, woo!” Pepper hooted, pulling Tony and Natasha over to Bucky who looked over at Steve with, even he had to admit, a hilarious look of shock on his face as the cigarette fell un-noticed from his lips.

 “… _I’m up all night to get some, she’s up all night for good fun, I’m up all night to get lucky…”_ Those were the lyrics from the guy singing the song, but it did not take Steve’s advanced hearing to pick up that Tony and Darcy were definitely not singing that.

 Bucky was always a good dancer, he had the confidence to pull off his terrible teenage moves to gets girls attention and he only got better from then on. He had a natural gift for rhythm, something about playing piano from a young age, and a switch seemed to flick in his brain and he began nodding his head to the music, taking a half a step back from Darcy so he could get room to move which had Tony crowing in delight.

“Dam, boy been holding out on us!” Sam yelled, elbowing Steve just in case something else other than his best friend he had thought was dead eight months ago having the time of his life had got his attention. “Where you learn moves like that?”

“Dodging bullets doing proper fighting, wings!” Bucky called, crooked grin plastered on his flushed face.

“Only those dumb enough to get shot at join the infantry, grunt.”

There was laughter, a drink pressed into Steve’s hand by Clint, Tony rattling on about ‘military frat boy humour’, Darcy’s hand on Bucky’s chest, Natasha and Pepper moving together, the thump of the bass and then they were all singing.

“ _We’re up all night to get Bucky, we’re up all night for that orgy, we’re up all night to grope Bucky...”_

 

Steve supposed being surrounded by an alien, two genetically modified super soldiers, and a Russian – all of who could not get drunk – gave the others a warped view on how much to drink. Either that or everyone had let themselves go in a way Steve had not seen since the Howling Commando’s got leave in Perugia. 

  He came back from the gym with Natasha to find Thor tiptoeing around the kitchen making Jane and Sam a pot of coffee while Bruce sat at the other end of the table eating cereal and reading through something scientific with what was almost a smug look on his face. JARVIS relayed a request from Ian and Darcy’s room for all the painkillers so Thor had taken her a packet. Clint had apparently appeared half an hour ago in his sunglasses, taken a gallon of juice from the fridge and shuffled off again. Tony was nowhere to be seen.

  “Rogers, would you be so kind as to take some coffee into Pepper Potts. She is suffering from the same aliment as our other friends.” Thor spoke gently, amused glint in his eyes at the state half Earth's Mightiest Hero’s were in.

 Steve took one cup for Pepper and one for himself then padded off into the den. In what little light that got in past the closed shutters Steve saw Pepper laying out on the couch, most of her face covered by an alarming Hulk eye mask, slippered feet in Bucky’s lap. He quietly put the mug down next to her, smiling as she patted him gently on the arm in thanks, and went to sit down on the other side of Bucky. He was eating hash browns and scrambled egg covered in ketchup staring passively at the blank TV. When used to have early shifts Bucky would stare at the old wireless on the broken kitchen table like it was going to tell him why he had to suffer early mornings.

  “Darcy is a swell dame.” He said in lieu of a good morning, for once his voice husky because of something else other than screaming.

 “She…she has character, lot’s of it. Not many people as comfortable in themselves as Darcy.”

“Not sure about her dancing with me like that when she has a fella, but when in Rome.” He looked over at Steve, eyes catching what little light got past the shades, and held his plate out to him.

“I’m alright.”

“Big guy like you needs all the food he can get.” It was something Steve used to say when he tried to get Bucky to eat some of his meals. It had been a constant battle between them to get the other to eat more; Bucky because Steve was so skinny, and Steve because Bucky worked so hard.

He took a breath to recover himself and shoved the plate back as he took a sip of coffee, “Don’t want your scraps, jerk.” Bucky gave the cup a wistful look, energy levels still too messed up for caffeine.

“Did I ever, I can’t remember, I remember girls, I can’t remember if I did anything with ‘em.”

“You took plenty of girls on dates.”

“Not what I meant, stupid.”

“What do you…oh!” Steve glanced at Pepper’s prone form and shifted nervously in his seat. “I don’t knows we should… you never said you did, and the girls you went with were always nice, not the sort to put out before they had promises and you weren’t, aren’t, the type to make promises you don't intend to keep...”

Bucky thought about it for a moment and then went back to his breakfast.

At four in the afternoon, half way through Fellowship of the Ring -everyone being entertained by Bucky’s disbelief that the Hobbits were actually played by average height normal footed people- Tony burst in, pointed directly at Steve and Bucky (Pepper had yet to move) and announced, “I’ve got 95 Year-Old Virgin shirts coming, if there’s two of you it’s officially a club.”

                                              

                                                                                              ------------------------------------

  It was a small mission, get Nat to get in, cover her fantastic ass while she either downloaded files or ripped out servers, then get the hell out of there. Nothing they had not done before, nothing they would not do again, but this was the first time Bucky was with them. He was stood near the edge of the open bay door, looking down at the suburbs they were zooming over in the reclaimed (and repainted) SHEILD Quinjet, Clint at the controls.

 Sam, who would happily jump out, off, and through most things trusting his wings to work was not the number one fan of looking out at empty air without them securely strapped to him, but sucked it up to come and stand next to Bucky.  

 But not too close, you could not pay him to stand closer, not even Natasha with her whiles could convince him it was a good idea. Although he stood where Steve normally would on these missions that was were the comparison ended. Cap was chilled enough to keep you calm, stern enough to keep you focused and snappy enough to make you want to follow him into danger.  Bucky, loose limbed with his beast of an assault rifle held loosely down at his side, was all focus. The night seemed to be filled with his tension, the set of his shoulders reminded Sam of his Aunt Vivian’s crazy tom cat before it tried to claw your eyes out. Violence was pouring out of him, putting Natasha on edge and making Sam wish he had a bigger gun strapped to him.

  “Hey,” Sam said as Clint called over the com’s that it was thirty seconds to the target, “you’ll be fine, we got your back.”

 Bucky looked at him and Sam felt a tiny bit of understanding for why Hydra used to put a muzzle on him. Shit, this was not the likeable guy with a sparkle in his eye and a slow smile whose sharp, but not unkind, sense of humour was emerging. He looked like some of the vet’s Sam got, the worse cases, the men and women who could not switch back to civilian life, who had gone toe-to-toe with the devil and came out swinging.

  “Ten seconds to the target.” Clint said and Natasha joined them at the bay door as the ground rose to meet them, Bucky swinging the assault rifle up into both hands.

 “Try not to shoot anything that looks like a computer.” She said to them both before saying something in Russian that made Bucky bear his teeth.

     Of course the simple mission to ease Bucky back in was not so simple as it was supposed to be. The dirt bag who was helping to fund Hydra must have been having a monthly conference of goons this evening because the place was crawling. They were charmed though, Sam had learned that early on, and the night you needed someone who knew how to use their fully operational Stark modified metal arm that fired flash flares and could be fully electrified was the night they had one. Getting in was Bucky and Nat being stealthy whilst Sam tried to be, the assault rifle boomed out over his machine gun fire as they held the third floor while Nat got what she needed. As they made their way up to the roof to be picked up the amo ran out which was not as much of a problem as it should have been as Bucky looked to be practising his baseball swing on the heads of the agents coming after them, tossing Sam the bloodied rifle before going in with his knives.

  It was brutal violence, merciless impersonal violence, and when he flopped down into his seat as they zoomed back to base the low light of the jet illuminated splatters of blood clinging to Bucky’s face and hair. Sam mused it would be a less terrible sight if he was still snarling and tense, but Bucky was the most relaxed he had been in months, smiling easier than he had before, with friendly blue eyes, the eyes from the photo’s in Sam’s high school history books, looking out at him from the blood and gore. The pent up emotions from the months of recovery in Avengers Tower, some probably dating back to World War Two, had been released with a shocking violence that Sam would overlook for the man that was coming back to life opposite him, for Steve's closest friend. He had been in a war zone twice, seen people who had been in one too many, and the path to recovery was not always hand holding and sympathy.

                                                                                                                 ------------------------------

 

“I feel like I’ve taken pizza for granted my whole life.” Maria said, looking at Bucky who was sat with a huge box on his crossed knee’s with such a look of bliss on his face it was indecent. Bruce had just declared him recovered enough for greasy junk food and Maria Hill, new Head of Stark Industries Communications, had been the one to bring the pizza party.

“You American’s do, I’d never eaten a tomato until I came here.” Natasha stated simply, picking the olives off Pepper’s half of the pizza and dropping them onto her own.

“Never?”

“Nope.” Pepper and Maria shared a look over their slices. “Don’t pity me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Maria assured, opening her beer before she gave Natasha an excuse to glare at her.

“How did congress take being blown off for a pizza date with their number one annoyance?” Pepper asked.

“I may have told a white lie…”

“You lied to _congress_ , how will you sleep at night?” Natasha dead-panned, taking a bite out of her crust that spoke volumes about her opinion on congress.

“I’m sure I’ll get over it, eventually.”

Pepper grasped her hand dramatically. “We’ll be here for you! Always! Sorry, what did you tell them..?”

Maria looked a bit guilty, “Told them one of Stark Industries satellites was going haywire, they were too happy to hear Tony would be having a sleepless night to care about rescheduling me.”

“Thank _you SO MUCH_ Maria. For that you can deal with the press releases tomorrow.” Pepper had dealt with a lot worse publicity whilst working for Tony, whilst dealing with the Avengers, she would just like a lay in once in a while.

“I’ll just borrow Bucky off you. Don’t look at me like that, Pep, we all know who was answering your emails the morning after that shit storm in Cancun?” They all glanced over at the man in question who was licking a bit of displaced cheese off his arm.

  Maria and Pepper started to giggle but Natasha remained unmoved as she ate. She waited for their mirth to die down before she spoke, “It’s a tactic I use. We were all taught at the KGB, allow yourself to look unthreatening so others do not notice you or your intentions. Then you kill them with less of a scene.” She looked over their horrified faces before cracking a smile. “You American’s are so easy.”

                                                                                                -------------------------------------------------

 

  “I know you’re trying to take the piss Tony, but I  am going to have a ball and make you listen to nothing but 30’s love songs for the whole night.” Steve announced smiling despite himself as he took in the man in question who was obviously going for Clark Gable but looked more like a pimp. No-one else had bothered to dress up which Steve was so very, very thankful for.

“Quick, get me some pearls to clutch Captain America just sad a bad word.”

His living room had been turned into what the 30’s looked like in the movies, not the beige run down apartment with rattling window panes, noise, disease, and poverty he remembered.  One city scape view was showing some kind of hologram projection thing of an art deco window complete with old cars and trams moving past. The glass coffee table was now wood and his TV replaced by an unnecessarily big gramophone. The huge leather sofa was now a wing back in a vile shade of green and a small thread-bare sofa like his ma’ had that he had sold to pay for her funeral. The walls were an obnoxious red and gold floral pattern and covered in public health announcements (Tony), tasteful prints (Pepper), and racy movie posters (Sam or Darcy, probably both).   

  Pepper handed Steve a tea cup as Tony did an impression of what he thought a gangster sounded like. “Don’t want the G-men knowing we run a gin mill speak easy and running sourdough through it, see, or you’ll end up in a Chicago jacket, see.”

“Nice spats.” Steve said, keeping eye contact as he downed the drink and thought for a horrible moment it was battery acid. “Tell me you did not make moonshine.”

“Just for you, Cap. Happy Birthday. I was gonna order you a cake made with period ingredients, mainly tuberculosis and dirt, but then I realised Pepper was going to have to eat it so then Eagle Scout and ‘Tasha were gonna make you one. Then I remembered I _like_ cake so it’s from this bakery out in Maine…”

“Don’t listen to him Steve, he wanted to spoil you.” Pepper spoke over Tony and pulled Steve down so she could kiss his cheek. “Happy Birthday.”

Steve felt himself blush, which made him blush harder, which then made him fall over his tongue, “Thank you, ma’am. I mean Miss.Potts. I mean…”

“You’re making me look zen right now, buddy.” Bruce slapped him on the back, “Not like you don’t get a hello peck every week.”

 “…got party food too. Boiled and sprinkled in polio just for you. Wasn’t sure about specs for the gramophone, I felt my brain rot just looking at them – if I loose IQ points I’m coming for you- so I went with bigger being better because that’s generally a good thing. What was that about a ‘hello peck’, what is it code for a hi-five?” Tony had not stopped talking and did not seem to care that he had been ignored.

  “Tony, I kiss all my friends hello.”

“Since when! You’ve kissed Sparrow Hawk? Please say you haven’t he may have bird flu.”

“Funny guy.” Clint called across the room

“You better not have given me bird flu!”

“Friends!” Thor boomed over Tony, beneficent smile on his face worthy of someone confused with a god, “Let us remember the occasion for which we have gathered; to honour the day of Steven Roger’s birth and to be thankful for his friendship, leadership, and patience. I cannot say I understand the changes we have made to your chambers, or that I am familiar with your customs surrounding such days, but I should like to say you are a ‘solid dude’ and am glad to know you.”

 Steve came over horribly embarrassed by the sudden and earnest speech, Thor had a great reserve of honesty and sincerity no doubt born out of having a brother like Loki, and stumbled over his own thanks, ignoring Tony’s offer to have Dumb-E polish his shield.

 The cake seemed to be sixty percent candles and Jane hovered near it with an honest to God fire extinguisher, “I’m so sorry I told Darcy not to but…”

“It’s an accurate representation of the length of your life, the amount of stuff that you’ve made explode, and how smoking hot you are.” She declared proudly with a flourish towards the cake.

“Thank you Darcy. That’s very kind of you. It’s very kind of all of you.”

The party was not as much of a surprise as it could have been, Bucky had not re-grasped how to lie yet so would just sit in an awkward silence if he could not disclose information. It was endearing in a child but in a fully grown man with over two dozen kills (more like four dozen after trawling through Hydra records) it was a bit creepy. He had asked Bucky if he wanted to go to the pictures, Steve had not cared for birthday’s since that train over the ravine in Eastern Europe, and even if Bucky did not remember the date, or what a birthday was, he wanted to spend it with him again. The stuttered refusal had hurt at first, but when gently pressed as to why worried eyes had flittered around the room as he held his breath so Steve left it, feeling touched that he was getting a party and dreading what Tony was going to do.

  “Not gonna dance Rogers? Annoying Intern One seems pretty keen to two-step you.” Someone who did not know Clint would have missed the laughter in his eyes as he nodded over to Darcy.

“I don’t know how Ian can stand it?”

“Ian? Ah, Intern Two. Well he’s not dumb enough to pick a fight with you.”

“Yes well…not really a party for dancing is it? Not the kinda music you guys like.”

“’Tash and me can do anything, super spies yanno. I’ll dance with you if you want.” Clint never mucked around with Steve, or Bruce, or anyone really, he saved it all up for Tony.  He was being deadly serious and Steve had a horrible moment where he did not know what to say. If he said no he’d get the ‘ingrained homophobia’ look that was just not true and if he said yes he’d have to dance. “Should I add weirding out national treasures to my skills list?”

“I’m not, Clint you know I’m not. I’m too big and ridiculous…”

“Don’t worry about it, man.” Clint clinked his beer to Steve’s moonshine filled tea cup. “Happy Birthday Cap.”

“How’d you guys find out about it anyway?” He glanced at Natasha who was in a deep conversation with Pepper and Bucky that could be about anything from weapon’s spec’s to recipes (Bucky never had the time or inclination to bake, but he used to diligently read through the recipes in the women’s section of the weekly newspapers). 

“Not spy ways for once. Bucky suddenly announced it on the subway last week when we came back from the Met's…” Clint paused and squeezed Steve’s elbow, looking away as he processed what was just said. It was just a date, there were more important things Bucky should remember, like his own Mom, but Steve still felt his heart swell fit to burst that his birthday had forced its way back from the jumbled depths of Bucky's mind.

“Well," he cleared his throat, "just glad to hear you guys aren’t putting your skills to use on me.”

Tony then insisted on showing a “Short Film about our mutual friend” that was mostly old show reels of him pretending to fire a machine gun in front of wobbly sets and modern news coverage of those four days he was a fugitive interspersed with Bonnie and Clyde footage.

 “Hey, where the hell was I in that? Didn’t I get a single mention? I’m a dam VA councillor on the run, what the hell!” Sam announced when the lights went up, feeling righteously annoyed, a ruckus going up as everyone compared times they had been left out of news reports or been unfairly put in.

Steve felt eyes on him and glanced over at Bucky who looked more like himself than he had since Steve found him strapped to that table in Austria over seventy years ago; hands in his pockets, hair swept back off his face, expression open with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “What is it with you and trouble?”

“Finds me. Must be why you keep hanging around, punk.”

Bucky went to answer as the playlist that had been put together (Stark had insisted on using the inbuilt speakers because _, “…_ the poor sound quality of that Dinosaur, _gramaphoneus rex_ , will ruin JARVIS’ carefully calibrated systems, wouldn't it JARVIS? _” “If you say so, sir”_  )started up again with the familiar tinkly piano and jazz clarinet of Steve’s favourite song.

 Bucky’s hint of a smile morphed into a beam, eyes sparkling and Steve cursed under his breath. “Of all the dam things you have to remember…” He let the cool metal of Bucky’s hand grab his wrist and pull him into in the middle of the room.

“If anyone has to keep up tradition it’s that snotty kid from Brooklyn.”

 Steve had been, what, eighteen and down in the dumps. Very down in the dumps. Bucky had wanted to take him out to a dance hall for the first time, for his birthday, but Steve knew no girls would dance with him- he had been even more scrawny at eighteen than he had when he tried to join up- the prospect of watching Bucky get all the attention while he just stood there was not a great one but he would go anyway because he had nothing better to do.  Bucky had seen, he always did eventually, and when the music programme came on the wireless he’d bundled a cussing Steve against him declaring it a dance lesson. Steve remembered laughing and treading on feet, firing insults at one another until the song from the new movie came on, the one with Astaire and Rogers, and it had all slotted into place.

 “Come on Fred,” Bucky teased, metal hand on Steve’s shoulder as he picked up their hands, “I knows you can dance better than that.”

“Ginger Rogers you ain’t.” Steve put his hand on Bucky’s waist, glad to feel there was some padding there now and not just muscle, and pulled them in the awful shuffling two step that was the only dance moves Bucky had ever been able to teach him. He never knew why Bucky always insisted on them dancing on Steve’s birthday, he had said it was to make sure Steve was in practice for when he asked a dame to dance, but he had suspected it was because they both know that no matter how hard Bucky tried to get him a dance it was never going to happen.

 

  “ _With each word, Your tenderness grows, Tearing my fear apart, And that laugh, That wrinkles your nose…”_ Bucky started to sing quietly, pretending Steve had spun him because he knew it would make the other man laugh. He could remember being told he was good enough to sing with a band, but was not sure if it was someone joking him or a serious suggestion- after all that his body had been through he supposed he did not sound good now anyways.

 “I am _not seeing this_!” Stark yelled, clutching his hair. “Am I dreaming? Has the arsenic in the wall paper made me hallucinate?”

“Bucky taught me to dance.”

There was an ‘awwww’ from someone and Stark continued to yell. “This is not happening!”

Steve got that grin on his face, the one that said a bout of mischief was afoot and Bucky stifled a laugh as Steve announced Bucky had taught him many things when they were young; right hooks, left hooks, fixing radiators, that the earth went around the sun and gravity was a thing, kissing, how the wheel worked, and the new theory the world was round that was just _fascinating_. It took a moment for the ‘kissing’ to sink in and Clint was howling with laughter, Tony finally rendered speechless either by that or the sudden flare for sarcasm Steve had shown.

  Those who were not rendered useless had started to dance as well, doing a dam sight better than Steve was. Bucky could remember having to close the curtains back then just to teach his friend to dance, remembered the clandestine feeling, remembered worrying that if they had to hide something it was wrong, remembered knowing Steve knew enough right from wrong for the whole building. Remembered dancing with girls in crowded halls, remembered a colour television, playing the piano in the lobby at a big hotel, a Dallas crowd cheering a motorcade, Steve being tiny, remembered a car crash, milkshakes, remembered…no, no his Ma’ wasn’t buried in the middle of the garage he worked in that wasn’t right, why would Mrs.Orlandi’s kids be playing in a tin bath in the middle of a battle in a French wood? Was it right? He could see the dance hall in Brooklyn but it was full of people in white coats and it was lit with flickering lights and the girls faces were all melting into one...

  There was a pain like a knife being forced into his stomach and on instinct he tried to crush the bone underneath his hand, had to kill who was attacking him, had to kill them all.

“What happened to your moves, Barnes? Man, this is painful to watch.” Accent: American- New Orleans, male, thirties, military…Sam, it was Sam.

  Bucky gasped in a breath, forcing his eyes open so whatever was in his head could not sneak up on him. On the exhale his eased the grip of his metal hand, aware of Steve’s gaze boring into his forehead and the firm hold he had on his waist. “You alright, Buck?”

“Yeah.” They had slowed to a gently rocking side to side, someone would see something was wrong- he had already ruined the party by putting that worried frown on Steve’s face, Bucky would be dammed if he ruined the whole night. “Tony’s taking me to Disneyland.” Left his mouth before he realised his lips were moving.

“What!?” Steve demanded, pulling his worried eyes away from Bucky to glare at Stark.

“Dammit Barnes, that was on the down low!”

“You better be taking me too, Stark.”

“Is this one of your quaint names for another realm or is it another country on this earth?”

“Thought you were too old for Disney?”

“I’m not sure that is such a good idea, Tony…”

“Bucky, do you or do you not want to go to Disneyland?” Tony spoke over everyone else’s opinion

“Want to go.” Bucky let go of Steve and shoved his hands into his pockets again, “I want some new memories that don’t remind me of old ones.” Remembering the details about a world that did not exist was not something Bucky wanted, remembering the big things that made him the friend Steve had been willing to burn the world down for was all he wanted from his past. He did not want any more of the Winter Soldier‘s memories than he had, he wanted to get on with life. That was a little too much for him to articulate to a room full of people with the memory of Steve’s collar bone pressing into his metal palm. “And it looked ace on the TV.”

“The oracle has spoken. Don’t look at me like I’m kidnapping your baby, Liam Neeson, I was going to tell you tactfully. See what I do for you guys, tact! I was even going to offer to take the momma bears too, but now I feel like I’m going to have to get you all in…” Tony looked over the room and sighed. “Jarvis, get us six more passes.”

_“Sir.”_

Darcy cleared her throat.

“Why are you even here, what super human power do you have apart from talking and harassment.”

“We’re Jane’s interns, what if some space doodah happens in California and she didn’t have her interns to carry things and write stuff down and record bings? Nobel prizes could be lost, physics could not be rewritten, space unexplored, the final frontier, voyages of the Star Trek Enterprise.”

 Jane banged her head on Thor’s arm as Tony stared at Darcy in disbelief.

Bucky wanted to ask what the hell a Nobel Prize was but thought better of it.

                                                                                                       --------------------------------------------

 

“So, you have come to your doom, Odinson, on this planet. If you had stood with me then your realm, your world, your _family_ might have been saved, but now I shall burn it as I…”

Thor had heard many speeches like this from enemies and family alike. Loki used to give them weekly when they were both in their four hundreds- Jane Foster had muttered something about that being a sign but Thor failed to see how, he was just imitating the Allfather surely?

He turned his gaze to Tony Stark who was talking rapidly into the communication network, mostly mockery of the red beast they stood before which would have brought a hearty laugh if not for the peril they faced.

“Man, don’t you ever shut up.” Sam Wilson asked from his vantage point on their left, high atop one of the towers, watching for deception and ready to fly down to their aid.

“Keep your eyes on shootin’ and swoopin’, Bird-man.” Tony replied, dodging a fireball that rolled past. “This guy is a dumb fuck, why do all the idiots react well to being nuked or zapped or whatever. JARVIS, make a note to look into this.”

_“Yes sir.”_

“Does this guy honestly think we’re going to stand here and listen to him going on and on and on and then just hop around and die? I almost miss your brother, Thor, he at least hit first…”

 Thor looked back at the mass of abominations feeling a darkness descend upon him. That fiend who had attacked New York, attacked Thor’s friends, who had wanted domination, was not his wide eyed little brother who would talk you into hitting yourself rather than do it physically. Something he had been too deranged to do when he came for earth; it was not until now that Thor could appreciate it.

He pulled himself upright as the down-draft of the Quinjet announced the others arrival- he would have to be worthy of Loki now and hope it was enough.

“Look who’s talking.” Steven Rodgers said with his usual good humour, voice clipped for command as he landed on his shield just behind them.

“Glad you could join us, did it take long to get through security with that dinner plate? Hulk my man, looking good today! Did you do something to make you more green?”

The Hulk roared and Thor took a half a step to left, remembering the force of the strike from the last time he stood within range of Hulk’s punch. 

“Call me when you want picking up kids.” Clint Barton’s voice called over the communications as the Quinjet pulled away to hover just in range of its weapons.

“Urgh.” Natasha Romanoff grunted, the sound of her guns cocking near to Thor's ear, “I fucking hate the chattering ones.”

 “I know right.” Tony said as the suit slowly rose into the air.

“…I have the fires of Hell in me! It’s daemon’s that do my bidding! Do you think a mere dozen can defeat me?!” The Thing (he called himself some reference to the Earth’s ‘Devil’ but Tony had refused to use such a cliché) was bellowing, spit making the surface of the bridge bubble as it’s eyes boiled with fire.

  From between their line sauntered Buchanan Barnes, slowly, without any hurry, machine guns strapped to his back and bristling with knives and the grenades Stark had finished an hour before they left with no time to test if they would even work.

The Thing laughed. “Is _this_ your champion? You think I care for such pleasantries as single combat!? You will all burn in the torment of my hell fire!!”

Bucky unclipped the grenade, twisted it live and threw it, metal arm putting a force behind it even Thor would be proud of. The flashing ball landed amidst the masses and nothing happened.

 “I’ve seen Hell and you ain’t shit!” Bucky yelled, voice carrying far over the wide space of the bridge just as the sonic boom of the UV light followed by the Thermite explosion seemed to make the whole world shake.

 

  “ _I’ve seen Hell and you ain’t shit._ Did you think that up on the ride in?” Tony asked, moving the icepack off his face to speak.

“You’re just jealous.” Bucky muttered

“Oh for your whit, Oscar Wild!”

“They have the same hair.” Bruce pointed out from around his mouthful of chocolate – the Hulk demanded sugar.

  “Can we get back to the debrief, please? The longer you all chatter the longer it will take and I’m not doing this for my health.” Steve talked over them, waiting for everyone around the table to return their attention to him.

“Teacher! Teacher!” Tony asked with his hand in the air, Steve sighed. “Teacher, why does Barnes not have to come to class?”

“’Cause Barnes saved the day, so Barnes gets the couch to himself and a coke for being a good boy.” A slightly singed Bucky replied from where he was sunk into the couch, legs kicked out in front of him and arms spread out over the back.

“Good boys don’t sit around topless.” Tony just could not let anything drop, motioning to Steve’s cardigan that covered Bucky’s bare, aching, shoulders.

He looked down at his pale torso, the wires attached to his left shoulder peeking out from under the fabric as JARVIS ran a diagnostic and downloaded data. “Why, is it putting you off?”

Tony jutted out his chin, “What if it is, Magic Mike?”

“Tony!” Sam growled out a warning.

Bucky lifted his hand and began waving it around, “If you like it then you shudda put a ring on it.”

“Bucky, don’t. Don’t encourage him, ignore him.” Steve sounded so put upon when the table erupted into noise that Bucky felt a flare of annoyance.

“Hey, I’m tryin’ to watch myself on the TV!” Bucky raised his voice just enough to shout over them, letting Brooklyn tinge his accent. “Be quiet, listen to Steve, and then we can get some dam food.”

The hologram overview of the fight regained everyone’s attention, Tony jamming the ice pack firmly against his face.

Steve smiled his small, lovely smile at Bucky, thanks softening his eyes. Bucky winked at him, remembering how it always made Steve blush, and blush he did. He bowed his face to his JARVIStab to try and hide it but Bucky saw and judging by the look that flashed across Natasha’s face she had seen it too.

Bucky left them to it, turning back to the News just in time to see himself empting a half used clip into the air in celebration, the special bullets exploding in blue flashes, while Sam was yelling at him to stop.

                                                                                                            ------------------------------------

 

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, left, left, yeah better get outta my wa…YOU DID NOT!”

Steve leapt up and threw his controller down on the floor so hard it shattered, Bucky yelling “VICTORY!” over his swearing and hi-fiving Natasha who looked very pleased with herself.

 “Why did I agree to this? How was this ever going to end with us winning?” Sam said quietly, watching the action replay of Natasha red shelling Steve who was trying to over-take her, catching Sam in the blast so Bucky could whizz by, Natasha finishing first comfortably and Bucky crossing the line backwards in second.

“This game is a waste of time if you’re just gonna cheat.” Steve grumbled, getting down on his knees to pick up the broken bit’s of the Wii controller.

Natasha laughed, “All’s fair in love and Mario Kart.”

                                                                                                          ---------------------------------------

 

 It was hard to reconcile the blank shell of the human who had looked at her with such impassive pain she had to excuse herself from the room with the bright laughter of the young man (Steve and him were technically only in their mid twenties) who had given her his arm to lean on when her feet hurt, let her use him as a human shield on Splash Mountain and was looking across the road at Snow White in wonder. No, this bright boy had always been there, locked down so deep not even Hydra’s finest minds could dig him out.

 Pepper took in a sharper breath than she meant to when she thought about after all Hydra had done Bucky had still been strong enough to hide himself away, how he was not going to let them scrub him out of existence. She squeezed his metal arm, knowing he could feel it and he tore his gaze away from the princess to look at her. “Let’s go say hello to Snow White while we wait for the others to catch up.”

Bucky blushed. “I’m a little old to be meeting Disney Princesses.”

“Who said anything about you?” Natasha said from Pepper’s other side. “I’m getting my picture with every damn princess in this park. Shall we Pepper?”

“After you, ‘Tash.”

Snow White did not bat an eye at the three adults who had waited patiently to meet her, Peter Pan and Bucky had to be dragged apart or they would have been chatting away the next morning while Tiana had recognised Pepper from the front of Time magazine and Pepper now had a treasured photograph of her and Tiana swapping autographs- all before the others caught up from somehow ending up two car’s worth of people behind them in the fast track queue for the Aerosmith ride.

“Thank’s for abandoning us guys.” Jane groused without much threat behind her words. Who could be moody in Disneyland when they had their hand in Thor’s back pocket?

 “Can’t wait around for you lot, got magic to experience.” Natasha said dryly, crooking a smile when Jane laughed.

 Steve’s choice of ride was the Teacups which surprised no-one, Tony and Clint moaning about it being lame right up until the moment Bucky claimed control of the spin. Pepper watched with the rest from their sedate spins as their red cup span like a centrifuge, Tony’s screaming only just audible over the music and whirr of the ride. Tony had to lay down under a tree afterwards to recover while Clint chewed his ear off about giving Bucky’s arm a full charge before they left, Bucky looked unrepentantly happy if a little dizzy and Natasha said she had quiet enjoyed it.

  The three mega metabolisms complained of being hungry again so they all got hot dogs because even superheroes, astrophysicists, and CEO’s needed cheat days.

  Sam lead them into the Tower of Terror and Pepper took a leaf out of Jane’s book and secreted herself under Bucky’s (human) arm, Steve grabbing his other one when he got scared, and slipped her hand into Tony’s. The photograph they got at then end was priceless; the eleven of them where in one panicked bundle as Clint and Natasha ,who were leading them through, spun around on instinct to defend themselves from the shock while Darcy, Ian and Jane at the back had tried to run through and slammed Thor forward into everyone who were wearing various hilarious looks of fight.

Bruce, who for obvious reasons did not go on the rides, laughed and said it should be put on all their business cards.

Tony had pulled some strings and the Harmony Barber shop was empty when he dragged them all in, declaring that this was an intervention for Bucky’s hair because he looked like a second rate Kurt Cobain after not having it cut for over a year. “Hello there Bucky, I’m Alice. Don’t let anyone push you into getting your hair cut, young man, but if you do I’ll give you a nice sharp one.” The lady with an exceptionally kind face explained, holding out the comb and scissors for Bucky to see, a glint of recognition in her eyes.

  Bucky looked at himself in the mirror for a moment and sunk down slowly into the chair, putting the towel around his own shoulders when Alice handed it to him. “I’ll go nice and slow, tell me to stop if you want.” She assured and started.

Pepper was aware they were all silently watching Bucky get his hair cut and that it would probably be very weird if they did not live the lives they all did. “Alice is a nice name.” Bucky said quietly when he had forced his eyes away from the scissors to his hands curled together in his lap.

“My grandfather named me. Him and his Sergeant in the 107th out in Europe saved this little Italian girl from the rubble of a farmhouse, her name was Alice. They had her with them for three days before they somehow found her family. He said she was the sweetest little thing, had Sergeant Barnes and the half unit wrapped around her little finger. ” 

Bucky looked up and met Alice’s eyes in the mirror and Pepper had to look away from the emotion there. Steve slipped past her and went to squeeze Bucky’s good shoulder.

The haircut was super sharp, a short back and sides left a little longer on top to preserve the natural wave in his hair. “ _Now_ I see why you were a ladykiller.” Natasha teased as Bucky ran his fingers over the short hair around his ears.

 Bruce pulled them into the shop which was soon a whirlwind of Tony and Sam trying to out-impression one another. Natasha slipped a princess crown on to Pepper’s head and set the rest off jamming hats onto heads and taking pictures for the Avengers Instagram and Twitter. Bruce found a pair of green Hulk inspired Micky Mouse hands, laughing his head off as he knocked them together and Micky said ‘Hulk Smash’.

 “Oh my gosh, guys! Guys!” Sam looked like he was a second away from jumping on the spot, “they have us themed ears! hhOOh my God!”

 Those who were not super enough to have their own merchandise branched out a little; Darcy and Ian, unsurprisingly, went for purple leopard print ears while Jane and Pepper decided they would quite like to be pirate mice.

Bruce, poor Bruce, was being a very good sport as he stood with a half amused smile on his face, wearing the green, bulgy, absolutely monstrous Hulk ears and posed with the Hulk hands for photos, looking ridiculous next to ‘Tasha who made even plastic mouse ears look sexy.

  “Pepper, did I okay these?” Tony asked, waving around his gold and red ears as he piled even more Avenger themed stuff into Thor’s arms.

“I haven’t found a way to forge your signature yet, s’why I keep you around.”

“Yeah I’m awesome, love you too.” Tony paused. “We need Bucky stuff. Pepper!”

“I heard you darling. Clint, you can’t use a teddy for target practice.”

“I’m not!” He protested, the image of a naughty child in his purple ears as he shoved the Iron Man plushie back onto the shelf. In fact the way everyone was running around and chattering away gave Pepper the sudden image of a crèche and she would be dammed if she took on the role of teacher.

  “Dorks in love.” Darcy whispered, nudging Pepper’s attention over to the mirror in the corner where Steve and Bucky were jostling for space. Steve was pulling off his red, white and blue ears like he pulled off everything- with a charming half smile and clear humble eyes. Bucky had the old style half cap ears on at a jaunty angle so the wave of his hair was visible, making him look like a kid off an old cereal box and not a highly trained killer. He turned around when he saw Pepper in the mirror with such a ridiculous smile on his face she had to reach out and pat his cheek.

“Should wear them more often, sweetie.”

“Don’t tempt him, this idiot will live in them.” Steve half turned from the mirror where he was adjusting his ears like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“I’ll put ‘em on for missions, strike fear into the heart of our enemies. The Field Mouse, deadly assassin.” Bucky glanced back at Steve who was trying very hard not to laugh.

 They left the store proudly wearing their ears and found the little cordoned off area the park reserved for them to watch the parade, meeting and greeting some Make a Wish children and a few other kids (and teenage girls) who could not help but recognise them.

  Tony wrapped his arms around Pepper, leaning his chin on her shoulder and sighing deeply. “What film are you a princess from?”

 “Not one you can find of Neflix.”

“Oooohkay let’s ruin some childhood memories!” She could feel Tony grin against her neck, slotting her hands over his where they joined over her stomach.

The parade was bright and loud and lovely, the songs thumping over Tony’s monologue about all the improvements that could be made to the floats and the audio and how they could loan out Thor to play the Beast when there was no more coffee and Pop tarts.

Then, as Let It Go faded out, Bucky still singing along without a care in the world, a song they all faintly recognised came over the PA as they were suddenly illuminated. “Let’s hear it for The Avengers, the hero’s of the Battles of New York, Seoul, London, Millau and Rome, the defenders of our freedom and security!”

 “That…is that Star Spangled man?” Sam shouted, hardly able to contain himself as a huge Avengers float turned onto the boulevard.

“I can’t…I can’t even laugh about this song.” Clint said quietly, smiling and waving at the cheering crowds, the horror in his voice speaking for everyone as the brightly coloured float crept closer, covered in towering figures of them in action stances around a mock ups of their famous battles.

“I’m on a _FLOAT_.” Sam was yelling, pumping the air as it rolled past, pointing at the ten foot painting of himself mid flight.

“So, this must be so embarrassing for you guys.” Darcy piped up, the song morphing into Under the Sea.

 “Not as embarrassing as it is for those _bednyye lokhi_ dressed like coral” ‘Tasha muttered, spitting out the Russian with a not very nice smirk on her face as she glared at the people dancing past.

 

 

   Bucky reached over and slung his arm over Steve’s shoulders, flicking his eyes over the crouching figure of himself devoid of knives or rifles. He was trying not to feel glad that he was half hidden from view behind Hulk's leg because despite what people told him he knew he was not yet deserving of being held up as a hero in Disneyland of all places. “Hey stupid.”

 Steve wound an arm around Bucky’s back and gave a gentle squeeze. “Hey Mickey Mouse.”

  They watched the rest of the parade like that, Steve’s hold slowly tightening until it would have crushed an ordinary man’s ribs.

 “I’m glad we’re both here.” Bucky said casually, head tilted to the side as he watched the fireworks explode over the castle.

Steve looked at him, the lights flashing across his skin, lighting up the expression on his face. People who had not known Bucky, which was most people back in Brooklyn, had thought it a cocky expression of a brat kid who got into fights and would never make something of himself. Which was a shame, Steve’s Ma’ used to say, because Bucky was good; not perfect, not like everyone thought Steve was, but good, with a heart the size of Lady Liberty and content with his lot because Steve was there with him. Just like Steve had lived with being short and skinny and sick because Bucky had been there knocking their shoulders together as they sat on the fire escape looking up at their small patch of sky.

  Bucky looked happy again, the horrors of war and… the horrors kept at bay, and a weight came off Steve’s chest that had been there for five or seventy years depending on how you looked at it. He had gotten so used to it he did not even realise it was there until it faded away.

He leant his forehead on Bucky’s temple, blocking out the noise of the fire works and the gasps and the 'oooo ahhhh' except Bucky's breathing, every smell except Bucky's clean leather and spice scent, taking the private moment the fireworks gave him to just take in every part of Bucky he had not even been aware of before it was no longer there.

Bucky pressed his head back against Steve's gently; a wordless comfort for every tear shed for him, every night Steve had lain awake until dawn thinking of him, every moment of every day he had been missed.

 “Yeah," Steve sighed, turning to give the fireworks a glance, "me too.”

 

 

 


End file.
